"Well, look at that, he's standing up. Oh my, I'm so scared."
Ivan, still on his feet, looked at the men sitting at the next table.
"Are you fellows saying that for us to hear?"
A middle-aged man with thick eyebrows lifted his head and looked at Ivan, who had sprung to his feet.
"No, we were just joking among ourselves. Why be so touchy?"
The man looked from Ivan to Rafin and back. Then, looking at Rafin, he was surprised.
"What? You're too old, so it can't be you. Don't tell me that kid is the one competing in the jousting tournament?"
Ivan grabbed the man by the collar.
"What did you say?"
Rafin rose from his seat. When he thought of his past life, it was so laughable he had to smile.
He was itching to give the whole bunch a thrashing, but he didn't want to wreck the inn that had served them such good food.
Rafin called out in a loud voice.
"Yes, I'm the one competing in the jousting tournament. I'd rather not make trouble over something petty, though."
Rafin lifted his chin proudly. Then he gestured to Ivan to hold back.
Ivan let go of the man's collar.
"Ahem."
The man rubbed his neck and cleared his throat.
"His face is a boy's, but standing up, he's tall."
"Got strength to spare? The tournament's still a few days off, so why not go spend all that spare strength at a house of pleasure or something? On the way into Unton I saw a house of pleasure over there with a very pretty woman. How about trying that place instead."
The streets of Unton were in a festive mood. At times like this, all sorts of shops did a roaring trade, and the houses of pleasure were no different. If he gave these hot-blooded men a useful tip, he thought, he could change the subject.
"Oh, really? Where is it?"
The man's face relaxed, and his eyes suddenly lit with interest. The tension in the air quickly eased.
Rafin's guess had hit the mark. Going by the man's face, he looked like the type who was rather keen on women. The moment women came up, his expression changed.
"Go out of the inn and keep going to the right, and you'll come to a smithy. Head into the alley there. That's the place."
"Thanks for the tip. You're young, but you sure know how to find that sort of thing. Good luck at the tournament."
The men at the table beside Rafin hurriedly wolfed down the rest of their food and went outside.
Ivan wondered when Lord Rafin had found out where such a place was.
"Lord Rafin, so you take an interest in places like that too?"
Ivan gave him a playful sidelong look.
"In a big city like Unton, a lot of women gather at the houses of pleasure to earn money. Earlier, after we unpacked, when I took a walk to see what was nearby, I heard people talking about it. I'm a man too, so my ears perked up at that kind of talk."
Rafin grinned.
"......Haha, I see."
Ivan seemed a little embarrassed. It was unexpected to hear Lord Rafin, whom he had watched since his first steps, talk so casually about a house of pleasure.
Barad Castle had planned two days of festivities before the jousting tournament. The festivities would start tomorrow. They were using the tournament not merely as a martial contest but as a place for the regions to mingle.
The next day, people flocked to the square.
Rafin and Ivan also had breakfast at the inn and came out to the square. Since being reborn, Rafin had never seen so many people gathered in one place.
With so many people gathered, plenty of merchants had come out to every corner of the square to sell snacks like bread and sweets from their stalls.
The square was packed with a huge crowd, and children ran here and there, peering into the stalls. The fragrant smell of bread and roasting meat tickled the nose.
Lively music began to play in the middle of the square.
"Master, let's go over there."
"To think they've even prepared an event like this before the tournament. They're certainly generous. People will be glad to have something to watch."
To liven up the atmosphere, musicians were playing the lute, the recorder, the nakers, and other instruments.
The music raised the mood even higher. The onlookers clapped or stamped their feet in time with it.
A little later, a gaudily dressed bard came out to the center of the square. He coughed a few times to clear his throat, then began to sing.
The musicians began to play along with the song.
Today is a glorious day
Banners flutter atop the walls
And the knights' armor gleams
A tide of steel dancing beneath the sun
Gather, O noble knights
O fine steeds that run with honor at stake
At this jousting tournament blessed by heaven
Show us your valor
On the field where courage and skill contend
Lances shall flash and shields shall ring
The ladies' scarves stream on the wind
And the crowd's roar splits the sky
Ride, ride, O noble knight
Ride toward honor and glory
For your name shall become legend
Today, O hero of this jousting tournament
When Rafin heard the bard's song, he was surprised to find it was the same song he had heard in his past life.
"Haha. The song of shining knights is still the same."
Ivan recognized it as the same song he had heard long ago, when he went to watch a tournament in the southern region. But it was strange that Lord Rafin knew it.
"Lord Rafin, do you know this song?"
"Eh. Well, I know it. I heard it a very long time ago."
"A very long time ago, you say?"
Lord Rafin was only 15 now, so if he had heard it a very long time ago, Ivan couldn't tell whether he meant back when he was learning to walk.
When the bard's song ended, a stage was being set up for a performance. The performers were carrying the puppets for the show behind the stage.
The puppets, which had only upper bodies, were made to look like a horse, a donkey, a knight, a woman, and a merchant. The puppets' eyes and noses bulged out enormously.
The puppets' comical looks had people anticipating how much fun the show would be, and the little ones, perhaps thrilled just at the sight of the puppets, were tugging at their parents' clothes and bouncing up and down.
The puppet show satirized the ways of the world and drew laughter from the crowd with exaggerated antics and lines. Rafin was enjoying it too, since puppet shows were hard to come by back home. He clapped and laughed along with everyone.
While another set was being arranged partway through the puppet show, the musicians played a lively tune. Rafin took the hand of the little one beside him and danced to the beat.
A while later, the puppet show ended. Rafin thought he had enjoyed the festival enough for today.
"Master, I'll head back first. If you'd like to look around more, come back later."
"You're going back already? I've had my fill too. We have an important event in a few days; we mustn't wear ourselves out enjoying the festival. I'll go back with you."
Ivan wondered whether this was really the same Lord Rafin he had known at Winstio Castle.
Lord Rafin was still young, it was his first time in a city this big, and with such a lively festival going on, he must have wanted very much to enjoy himself. Yet seeing him hold back ahead of the tournament, Ivan felt that he was becoming not merely the lord's young son but a serious candidate for knighthood, and his heart swelled with pride.
If Lord Rafin said he was going back to the inn first, naturally Ivan had to go with him.
Until the tournament began, Barad Castle allowed the competitors to practice at the training ground inside the castle.
Rafin and Ivan went to Barad Castle's training ground. Looking at the competitors gathered there, Rafin saw that most of them were wearing armor that was at least serviceable.
Rafin's armor was an old-fashioned set, so some parts caught a little when he moved his joints.
But old-fashioned armor was no problem for Rafin. In his past life, he had fought perfectly well wearing armor more uncomfortable than this.
Rafin trained only enough to loosen up while getting used to the feel of the tournament grounds. The horses Barad Castle provided were stronger than the ones at Winstio Castle, and their coats had a sheen to them.
Rafin supposed that since they were horses kept by a wealthy house, they were well fed and well cared for, which was why they were in such fine condition.
Rafin chose a horse. Then he rode it slowly, thrusting his lance into the empty air.
Rafin looked around the training ground, sizing up the competitors' skill. A few moved as gracefully as if they were one with their horses, while some handled their lances clumsily.
When Ivan compared how the other competitors at the training ground rode with how Lord Rafin rode, Lord Rafin's riding looked far more skillful.
Rafin didn't see the thick-browed man he'd briefly quarreled with at the inn at the training ground. He supposed the man was either enjoying the festival in the city or sleeping late after a night of fun at the house of pleasure.
Two days later, on the day of the jousting tournament, they got dressed early in the morning and went into Barad Castle.
A guard led Rafin and Ivan to a waiting room on one side of the tournament grounds. The waiting room was as large as the great hall of an ordinary castle. Right next to it was a stable holding the tournament horses.
In the waiting room, squires and servants hurried back and forth looking after the competitors.
The captain of the guard, Natye, went to the middle of the waiting room, took up a sheet of paper, and began to call out the order of the jousting tournament's matches in a loud voice.
"The first match is Sir Gauwil of House Ronde and Sir Marter of House Dorwin. Please get ready."
Natye went on to call out the other tournament competitors. Rafin was in the 5th match. The first match was to begin in 2 hours.
Meanwhile, the stands around the arena were filling up. Maids were carrying snacks to the spectators, and minstrels were playing instruments in one corner of the stands.
The music carried clearly all the way to the waiting room. A few competitors in the waiting room stamped their feet or clapped in time to it.
Rafin spoke to Ivan, who was sitting beside him.
"There's time before my turn comes, so shall we go watch the tournament?"
"We should. We need to see what the competitors can do."
A good many of the competitors in the waiting room were also leaving it to watch the tournament, heading to a corner of the stands.
Ivan jerked his chin toward one side for Rafin to look.
"That man you see there is the Northern Grand Duke, Lord Anchin Rosrad."
In the distance, in the middle of the stands, Rafin saw a man wearing a cloak of purple and gold. He was middle-aged, with a lean build and not an ounce of spare flesh. His hair was blond.
"I see."
Then, near where the Northern Grand Duke sat, Rafin saw an old man in unusual clothes. They resembled a monk's habit, but black. In his past life, people dressed like that had been mages.
It was curious that, even after all this time, a mage's clothing had barely changed. An old mage, he thought, must surely have considerable experience and knowledge of the world.
Rafin was glad to be out of his home at Winstio Castle; coming to Unton, he got to see all sorts of people. Unton, where many nobles gathered and money and goods flowed.
He expected there must be unseen power struggles going on here, for more money and more power.
He had to keep his eyes and ears open and grasp the currents of those struggles.
While Rafin was lost in thought, a booming drumroll announced the start of the jousting tournament.
In the first match, Gauwil beat Marter. Then they watched the second match.
Rafin was muttering his impressions of the jousts to himself.
"Judging by how that one handles his horse, he's a knight who was properly trained from boyhood. That fellow over there has plenty of power in his lance, but his balance is off."
In the 3 jousts he watched, Rafin didn't see a single knight who showed skill worth mentioning.
The competitors he had seen at tournaments in his past life seemed to have been of a higher caliber than now. In his past life, a festival like this would have seemed like a distant dream. A life spent fighting amid war and the reek of blood. But now, even a jousting tournament was part of a festival.
Rafin and Ivan went to the waiting room.
The captain of the guard, Natye, spoke.
"The match after next is Sir Willas of House Adriond and Sir Rafin of House Valone... no, not Sir. Just Rafin, it seems. Please get ready."
Rafin was putting on his armor. Ivan was beside him, helping him into it.
The competitors in the waiting room learned that Rafin was taking part not as a knight but simply as a nobleman's son.
"He's not even a knight, and he's come to a jousting tournament."
"That must be the kid. He's tall, but he's young."
"Isn't that dangerous?"
"Ha, I guess House Valone didn't have anybody else to send?"
As he put on his armor, Rafin could hear the whispering around him. For a moment, his temper flared.
"Dammit —"
"Lord Rafin."
Ivan caught Rafin by the arm and raised a finger to his lips.
"Shh."
Then he whispered.
"Lord Rafin, let's show them with skill and shut those bastards' traps."